And So Much More!
by Blue Eyes Shining Dragon
Summary: A collection of WALL-E ficlets and drabbles.
1. Sound

_"Without music, life would be a mistake."  
-Friedrich Nietchze_

Silence.

Day in and day out, all WALL-E ever heard was silence. Oh, there were the little noises (the sound of his own treads creaking along the ground, Hal's occassional chirps, the blowing wind), and things got QUITE loud whenever a sandstorm rocked along, but all in all it was dead quiet everywhere the little robot went. Sometimes he would find himself beeping random noises just to leven the atmosphere. He remembered a time when things were a bit more lively, back when there were others like him...all the sounds THEY made had worked together to create a chorus of noise the little robot could listen to as he meandered through the daily grind. Now, however, he was all alone. In a world of silence.

On this particular day, even the wind seemed quieter than usual. That meant the odds of WALL-E getting a chance to gaze at the stars that night were poor; no wind meant no cloud movement, and no cloud movement meant no little holes though which to see those wonderful little dots of light in the sky that so fascinated the trash-gathering machine. Still WALL-E plugged away at his job as he always did: diligently and without complaint. Sifting through the waves of scattered scrap and junk that provided the backdrop of his existence, he tried to take something out of the rhythm of clanks that accompanied the gathering of items into his body, but it was no use; it was so soft...so meager...it barely even registered on WALL-E's audio sensors. That was when it happened: while pushing the next batch of garbage toward him, his claws bumped into a strange object. It felt..harder...than the scrap surrounding it. "Oh?" WALL-E chirped curiously, pulling the item into view.

It was a dusty black...rectangle...thing. WALL-E looked it over, rotating it around to get a full view of it. On the front, there were two small glass panels through while he could see rolls of some thin, dark brown material wrapped around in two circles, one for each panel. The back side had a pair of white holes that seemed to correspond to the panels on the front. "Ooooooooooh." the robot whistled, stowing it into his lunchbox immediately; THIS item beared further investigation.

That night, when WALL-E had come home from the day's work, he inspected the object with even greater care. Poking it, prodding it, trying to sift through the massive objects he'd collected already...the robot exhausted all his resources trying to figure the device out. After extensive trial and error, he began to get the idea. It was some sort of Media device meant to relay images and sound through another machine. The CD player, though, would not fit it. Neither would the DVD player. Finally, WALL-E came to an old clunky device he had never used before, but knew to be called a VHS player (it said so right on the front). "V...H...S..." he enunciated haltingly, looking at the rectangle; could THAT be what he'd found?

Hooking the device up properly, the robot pushed his newfound discovery inside and pulled out the 

Viewscreen Monitor. Normally, the screen was used for old BnL instructional videos, but those had stopped playing a long time ago. Now, WALL-E waited for it to play...well, whatever it was that was on this VHS thing. The screen flickered to life, and images appeared there. People, in gaudy clothes, walking cheerfully down the street. No, no, not walking...something else. Something more...lively. They were making noises too, but not just ANY noise. This noise was...special...

_Put on your Sunday clothes when you feel down and out!  
Strut down the street and have your picture took!  
Dressed like a dream your spirits seem to turn about,  
That Sunday shine  
is a certain sign  
that you feel as fine as you look!_

WALL-E sat, mesmerised by the colors, the motion...the sound. Ooh that SOUND. It was unlike anything the robot had ever heard before, but he could not stop listening to it. It made him want to tap his treads on the ground, to spin about and rise and duck and swirl and run and _move_. It was magical. Clicking his claws together in time with the bouncy music, he realized he could take this sound with him from now on! Looking down at the recording device installed in his upper body, he clicked the button with the red circle on it and simply let it take in all the sound he wanted.

The next day, when WALL-E went to work, the canyons and buildings of trash and dust echoed with that magical noise. The robot moved with a little hop in his treads, making small beeps here and there to go along with the recording. He was still alone. Now, though, he was alone in a world of sound.

**End**


	2. Out of the Blu3

It was that time of year again.

Single file lines. Two rows. Follow the straight white lights toward the Launch area. It was time for the annual trip to Earth.

EVE was, to be frank, giddy. This was always her favorite time of the year, even if it was also the most frustrating. Yes, she would have to be deactivated and stored on board some stuffy spaceship for several days to make the journey. Yes, she would have to deal with the aggravation that always accompanied a failure to fulfill her Directive. Yes, she would have to eventually go through the grueling analysis process once she got back. Yet all that was worth it, because she still got to go to Earth. Her last trip was still fresh in the young probe's memory banks: canyons as wide as the eye could see, open space for miles on edge...no one around for miles. It was perfect.

Left turn down Hallway A12. Even pace. Head to elevator hatch 12-X.

It was not that EVE disliked company. Rather, it was that the company she kept always felt so...hollow. The white pod recalled the first time she had been among the Probes chosen to go to Earth. She had just recently been activated. Destined for a new world, fantasies of the wondrous things she would discover there flashing about in her processors without cease...the young drone had been so excited, she just HAD to share her joy with her sisters. That was what she had thought of the other EVE probes back then...as sisters. That, however, had quickly changed.

Enter elevator hatch in pairs of two. Wait for everyone to be on the same floor before continuing. Group is re-united.

"Earth!" she remembered squealing excitedly to the drone next to her, bouncing energetically up and down. "Earth!"

The probe had not responded, simply looking blankly ahead as if EVE was not there at all. EVE had been confused then; was it something she had done? Had she spoken in the wrong tone? She understood now, of course. She was different from the other probes. To them, this was just...nothing. It was not even a job. It was everything they were, their actions. Context, Directive, excitement...to her sisters, those things did not exist. All that existed were the motions they went through to get where they needed to go.

Board Transport rack. Head down Transport Tunnel B-13. Prepare for Stasis Lock.

To her, however...she was not just the sum of her actions. She was EVE. She could _fly_, explore whole new worlds without limit or restriction, see their beauty and uncover their mysteries. That meant something, and she could never express it when she was on board the Axiom, because her sisters were all she had there, and none of them understood it. That was why being alone on Earth meant so much. On The Axiom, she had to just be another one of the drones. On Earth, she could be EVE.  


Transport Rack arrives. Stasis Lock activated. Directive Protocols initialized.

As her systems began to fall asleep, the white pod felt one last image of that beautifully empty world pass through her sensors. When next she awoke, that was where she would be. Home.

EVE loved this time of year.

**End**


	3. Crumble

It had taken WALL-E approximately seven hundred years (give or take a decade) to find all the garbage his claws could carry, compact them down into cubes, arrange said cubes into a proper order, and eventually build them up into mountainous towers whose heights he regularly visited.

It took the humans less than a day to tear them all down.

It was hard to bear. They were not delicate about it; why should they have been? These structures were special only to him. To them, they were just more scrap to be melted down for supplies, space to be freed up for new developments. WALL-E understood that, and so made no objections when the idea was brought up. He would not be so selfish as to withhold something helpful from these people just so his work could be preserved. So the robot watched years and years of hard labor fall apart in silence. It should not have felt this bad, he knew; he still had so much to cherish: his home, his collections, EVE...but these towers were landmarks...memories. They were the reminders of where he'd been, what he'd done...there was the spot he'd first met Hal, and that was the tower he'd made on the day he'd first discovered music, and ooh that was the one he'd turned into a makeshift slide...gone. Seven hundred years...gone.

The trudge back home felt particularly long that day.


	4. Weave

**NOTE: One of three request fics written for chobit001.**

One day, a long time ago, a little robot named WALL-E woke up for the first time.

Another day, also a long time ago, another robot named EVE also woke up for the first time.

They were separated by untold trillions of light-years of space. They came from completely different environments. They bore little resemblance to each other. Neither one even had any idea that the other existed. In just about every way one could imagine, WALL-E and EVE were so separate that it seemed they were never meant to meet.

Yet somehow, meet they did.

A trail of white dots now flew across the depths of space, followed closely, lovingly, by a light of blue. The two little robots, WALL-E of white dots and EVE of blue light, had travelled across long and winding roads to reach this point, to be together. Now that they were, it was as if a picture once incomplete had finally been finished, and both could now understand so much more than either ever dreamed possible. Left, right, up, down, side to side, around and around…every direction imaginable, they danced it with such grace and precision any who watched would swear they were of one mind. White dots and blue light, swirling together in perfect harmony.

Against the dark glowing backdrop of stars and planets and suns, WALL-E and EVE created a tapestry of blue and white. In all his years of trash collecting and piling and more trash collecting, WALL-E had never imagined he would have a moment like this. He'd wished for one, constantly. Yet he'd never believed he could actually HAVE one. That was the sort of dream only the people in the television got to live, not lonely little worker-bots living out a daily grind as best they could. Somehow or other, though, that was exactly what was happening, and the little robot could not have been happier. EVE, meanwhile, could only think of how close she wanted to hold that little cube-with-wheels right then. For as long as she could remember, she had been a being of freedom, exploring the Earth once every year from an angle no one else could ever quite possess. It had meant so much to have that perspective, but the joy often turned to cold dead weight whenever she came back to the Axiom and realized she could not share it with anyone. Now she could. Now she had WALL-E, and she could not have happier.

So the two little robots, born trillions of miles apart in different bodies from different worlds unaware that the other was out there waiting for them, wove their feelings through the stars. White dots and blue light. Two threads, woven together.

**END** **  
**


	5. One Step At A Time

**NOTE: The second of three request-fics written for chobit001.**

Life onboard the Axiom had been the definition of comfort.

Life on Earth, however, was really, REALLY hard.

Captain Macrea was learning that the hard way. It had been one week since the Axiom had made its journey home, and making the change between those two lifestyles was proving very difficult for everyone. As the Captain, it was proving particularly difficult for Macrea, because his own personal problems were compounded by everyone else's. The deep disappointment he felt, for example, of not having seen a single ounce of growth in the place he'd buried a slice of pizza a few days ago was worsened by news that many people were having difficulties starting crops of their own. Some simply did not know what to do, others were not getting results, and still others felt uncomfortable about getting down and dirty to get the work done.

Fortunately, the people of the Axiom were not without help. WALL-E, the little robot who had become something of a folk hero for his part in bringing the ship back to Earth, knew the lay of the land quite well. EVE too was knowledgeable in many useful ways, and was just as revered as her robotic boyfriend. Indeed, ALL the robots of the Axiom seemed more capable of adapting to this new situation than any of the humans. Their help was an incredible boon. Yet Captain Macrea knew it could turn poisonous if he and the others did not find a way to lift their own (admittedly sizeable) weight. It wasn't that any of the robots meant harm to the people; quite the opposite. It was the people who could all too easily choose to rely on their robotic friends' aid rather than work on their own to fix the problem. It would be just like life on the Axiom: nothing to actually DO, survival without real life. That wasn't going to happen, not again. Not on Macrea's watch.

Thus, on this particularly sunny day, the Captain made a point to go to one of the local gardens that had popped up around the city in various places since the Axiom's arrival. Finding himself at his destination, he saw a relatively average brown-haired man tending to one of the only green growing plants in the place. "Um…it's John, right?" the Captain greeted with a humility that belayed his position.

"Yeah, that's me." The man replied, not looking away from the plant. "Mary'd be here too but she's out getting s'more water for the plant. What can I do for youAAAH!!"

As he spoke, John had turned around and practically flew into the air when he saw who he was talking to. Within seconds, WALL-E wheeled in at top speed from a nearby trench, a packet of seeds hitched to his back. The robot calmed when he saw the Captain. "Oo-ay-oo." He chirped in greeting.

"Hey there, WALL-E," Macrea replied jovially, then said to John, "Oh, uh, sorry for scaring you like that."

John, still a little unnerved, nevertheless found the strength to say, "It's…no problem, sir."

"Directive?" WALL-E squeaked curiously.

Macrea smiled. He hadn't quite nailed it, but he was getting the hang of deciphering WALL-E's limited vocabulary. "Directive" often meant "what do you want?" or something close to that effect. "I'd heard 

good things about this garden," he answered, "and wanted to get John's help on a little project of mine."

The next day, a meeting was organized in front of the Axiom. Everyone gathered there noticed a particularly striking detail: there were no robots. Anywhere. Just as that observation sank in, a large vid-screen projected itself from the Axiom's doors. Captain Macrea's face was displayed across the screen, an amused smile on his face. "Good morning, everybody." The Captain said. "As you've probably noticed, the robots are gone. They're taking a little vacation, y'see."

Gasps of horror and surprise echoed across the crowd. "That vacation ends," the Captain explained, "when we learn to take care of ourselves a bit better."

Two other figures appeared next to the Captain on the screen. "These two outstanding citizens are named John and Mary, and they're going to be teaching you all they know about gardening. Take it away, you two."

Inside the Axiom, John and Mary, hands held proudly together, walked up to the camera and began to speak. "Today's lesson is 'The Seed: What it can do for you'!" Mary said giddily.

Macrea grinned. It was a good first step. The first of many.

**END**


	6. Lost Boys

**NOTE: The third of three request 'fics written for chobit001.**

Repairing malfunctioning robots had not been a priority on the Axiom. With so many OTHER robots operating normally, spending much time trying to fix the handful that didn't was more than a touch redundant. For that reason, the Rogue Robots that had been forcefully taken into the Repair Ward to be fixed wound up waiting there for a long, LONG time.

Then a most peculiar thing had happened.

A little yellow box on wheels had come into the Ward, the place that had become the entirety of the world to the robots trapped inside it, and set them free. He broke their chains, opened their door, and gave them a song. Each and every last robot could remember that song verbatim, whether it was BRL-A (an umbrella-bot who simply could not get itself to close), VAQ-M (a robo-vacuum with allergies), or HAN-S (a massage-o-matic with rage problems). It was their anthem, and in a strange way, that little box was their father, a figure under whom all the Rogues and Rejects could unite.

So the Rogue Robots had their freedom. They had an anthem. They had a father. They even had a little brother in MO, though MO preferred to think of himself as their BIG brother. After so long in the Repair Ward, such an expansion of existence was truly a blessing, and one that all the Rogues embraced openly. Yet as the inhabitants of the Axiom, people and machines alike, transitioned from life on board the gargantuan ship to that of the still-healing Earth, the Rogues all realized they were still missing something.

PR-T wanted someone she could gossip with.

VN-GO wanted someone who could appreciate his unique paintings.

HAN-S…well, HAN-S wanted someone who could give him a good scrap.

WALL-E was a true friend, and none of the Rogues would trade him for anything, but there were some things their "father" simply could not give them. One by one, however, each of the malfunctioning machines began to realize there was someone who could fill that void…someone who was as close to them as WALL-E.

She was a girl, she'd understand gossip.

She was curious and loved unique and pretty things.

She was as tough as tough could come, and could hold her own in a fight.

Yes, the Rogues all agreed. EVE would make a fine mother for their little family.

**END**


	7. Enemy

**Enemy**

For seven hundred years, AUTO had controlled the Axiom. In that time, there had been no instances of violence. No outbursts of anger. Nothing. Everything was tranquil, calm, and well-ordered. Perfection. With each successive Captain, AUTO's control of that world grew, and so the tranquility and perfection was preserved. A ship in a bottle, untouchable and unharmed.

Then HE came.

At first, AUTO did not recognize him as a threat. An abnormality, to be certain, and that was trouble enough on its own, but not a threat. Yet soon, the computerized pilot came to see the Earth robot-an inferior model of the Waste Allocator Load Lifters employed on the Axiom-for what he truly was. Everywhere the rusted little cube went, disaster followed. Robots who had done their jobs diligently for centuries now without fail became distracted and disorderly: a Microbe Obliterator abandoned its post in pursuit of the WALL-E, meeting the WALL-E caused the Typing-Bot to become obssessed with waving, the Repair Ward was brought to ruin by the WALL-E...even the Captain was not immune. The cube managed to give the delusion of a homecoming to the Captain, a delusion AUTO could not rid the man of no matter how hard he tried.

The WALL-E was not just an abnormality. He was an enemy. A virus plaguing the perfect world AUTO had worked seven hundred years to create, infecting every corner with foolish notions and malfunctions. He had taken the Axiom and turned it into a kindom of chaos. The robotic wheel would not lose its tranquil Axiom, not while it still had the power to fix the problem. The infected would have to be taken care of, obviously, but that would not be enough. Nor would getting rid of the plant restore order in and of itself either. No, there was only one way to truly cure the Axiom of its disease and restore it to its proper working order.

The WALL-E had to be destroyed.

**END**


	8. All You Need

The gas-mask felt uncomfortable around his neck. Heavier than it ought to be, somehow.

"Mr. Forthright, you're on in 10...9...8..."

He licked his lips nervously. What was he going to say when that camera turned on? No scripts this time; he and his retainers barely had time to make it to one of the last protected areas left on the increasingly toxic Earth. Writing out phony words for a phony message to deliver phony hope was simply not in the cards. No, Shelby Forthright was going to have to record his image for all time admitting defeat, admitting that their homeworld was beyond saving, and condemn untold billions of people to spend the rest of their lives in outer space, and he didn't even know how he was going to say it.

This was not how things were supposed to happen. This was not the future he'd envisioned when he'd taken over Buy 'n' Large, pushing it up and up and up until it had become the largest multi-industrial corporation in human history. Things were supposed to get better. Everyone would have have everything they had ever wanted, needed, yearned for, dreamed of...and he'd be there to shake their hands and soak in their praise. Instead...instead, all THIS had happened.

"...7...6...5..."

It wasn't his fault. He'd been a good leader, he just knew he had, so it couldn't POSSIBLY be his fault. Somehow or other, though, everything had just...gone wrong. Shelby had thought...hoped...he could fix it. Project: Clean-Up had seemed so perfect. While the robots cleaned up the mess, everyone else would get to relax in the safety of the stars. Only it had failed. Miserably. No matter how much trash the WALL-Es cleaned away, there seemed to always be more, and worse, the Earth's environment was choking to death on it faster than anyone had anticipated. It wasn't his fault, but Shelby felt very sorry anyway.

"4...3...2...1. And..."

_"Buy'n'Large  
Super Store  
All you need  
and so much more!"_

That loathsome little jingle...Shelby'd always hated it. "Turn it off, just...just turn it off!" he snapped.

This was it. He had to let the auto-pilots know not to come to Earth again. Ever. He'd done everything he could do to fix the problem. Now it was time to just try and survive. Putting on his best smile, Shelby looked into the eye of the camera, into the eyes of all the people who would never know what he was about to do to them, and gave the order.

"Stay the course."

**END**


	9. Off The Rail

For MO, life was defined by two iron-clad rules:

1.) Destroy any and all microbes and/or Foreign Contaminants.  
2.) Never, EVER leave the line.

From the second he was activated, MO always listened to those rules. If there was so much as a single percent of foreign contamination, he would move in and clean it gone in a microsecond. As for the line...the line defined his path. It was the light that guided the way, the barrier between where MO could go and where he was forbidden. He followed it, his team mates followed it, everyone followed it. The Line was all.

Then...something happened.

It was a routine job at first: clean the returning EVE probes of any and all Foreign Contaminents they might have accquired on Earth (and how MO loathed the thought of that dirty little rock and all its filth) and then return to base. It was a gruesome job; sometimes the EVEs would have a whopping twenty-five percent contamination ratio! Still, it was one MO carried out patiently and diligently. EVE after EVE he went, scrubbing them clean, and then...he came across something odd. It was not an EVE but something...else. Something that did not belong. MO scanned this strange being to see its contamination level...

Scanning...

Scanning...

Scanning...

Contamination Level: 100

ONE HUNDRED PERCENT?!

Intolerable! Inconceivable! Yet before the matter could be dealt with in full...the anomalous robot was gone, running off into the depths of the Axiom and vanishing. MO hung his helmeted head in shame: he had failed in his mission. Now...now a walking cesspool of contamination was aboard the ship, and the cleaning 'bot had no way to find it. Slowly, MO wheeled himself back toward the carrier to return to base, but...wait. The scanners were still detecting a faint trace of Earth dirt! There, on the floor, tracks! He could follow them to the contaminated robot and scrub it down to a mirror shine!

But...they were heading off the line, away from the carrier.

MO had never left the line. None of his team-mates had left the line. NO ONE left the line...except Rogues and malfunctioning units. MO was not a Rogue, nor did he want to be. MO was not broken, and the thought of the Repair Ward scared him. But...the dirt! The dirt HAD to be cleaned, and that robot had to be stopped before he trailed it all over the place and made a mess of things! What to do, what to do? Those two rules, the foundations of MO's entire life, had always stood side by side, never in opposition. Yet now...now there was a clear choice: His duty...or the Line.

It took him a long, torturous moment to decide.

In the end, he knew what he had to do. Closing his eyes, he leapt, not knowing what would happen next...and left the line behind.

He had a job to do.

**END**


	10. Moving Day

"You sure you've got everything, sweety?"

Thomas looked back to his wife Elaine. A young baby cradled in her arms, a carrier droid at her side with large containers, she was as beautiful today as she had been when Thomas had first met her. "For the last time, dear, yes." she answered, giggling a bit as her child played softly with her long blonde locks.

Thomas smiled. "Good. We paid good money to get on the Axiom, I'd hate to leave anything behind when we go." he said softly, admiring his family.

"It'll be nice to finally get away from all this garbage..." Elaine sighed, looking down to where even now hundreds of WALL-Es filled the trenches below, scuttling about and picking up the scrap.

"Maybe, but I'll sure miss Earth..." Thomas sighed. "Even if it is only a five year trip."

Soon, they came to the docking bridge. Walking up to the guard-bot standing watch, he was about to show his ticket when a most unexpected sight appeared: there, on one of the other loading gates, decked out in his authoratative white uniform, was the ship's Captain. Thomas grinned. He'd always wanted to be a captain. "Name?" the guard-bot asked.

"Hm? Oh. It's MacCrea. Thomas MacCrea." he replied.

With that, he and his family boarded the ship. Thomas gave one last look back. He simply could not wait for the day he would get to come home...


	11. Growth

PR-T said things. A lot of things. One of the things she would often say, when she was not trapped in an extended soliloquy on how she SO understood what her customer was going through, was that girls liked "big, TALL men."

Upon hearing that one day, WALL-E realized he was smaller than EVE. Up until then, it hadn't been a problem: he rather liked getting to ride around in the white probe's arms, and he had never given their individual sizes much thought anyway. Yet if, as PR-T had stated with such conviction, women liked "big, TALL men", did that mean EVE did not like him? Clearly, it was true; PR-T would never have said it if it wasn't. Of course, EVE seemed to like him a lot, but WALL-E did not want to take any chances. He resolved to make himself taller.

The only problem was that, as a robot, he did not grow. No matter how long he waited or how hard he willed it to be so, WALL-E did not gain an inch. Not one to be so easily defeated, he attempted to find other ways. He re-adjusted his treads to hold him vertically rather than horizontally (this made movement more or less impossible, but whatever worked...), he extended his neck as high as it could go (this was quite the strain on its joints, but it DID make him taller...), and he put a safety cone on his head (his neck positioned as it was, this meant he had to put it over his eyes...). At this point, he had to make sure he was taller than EVE, so he waited for her to show up.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Techincally, it was only an hour's weight, but with his treads uncomfortably balanced on the ground, his neck begging to bend just a wee bit, and the sight of dark orange becoming increasingly ugly, it felt a lot longer. Eventually, however, the familiar swooping sound of EVE flying by entered his audio receptors. This was followed by a confused chrip, and a soft whisper of "WALL-E?"

"Ev-ah." he replied in a lower tone than usual; big tall men had big tall voices, after all.

EVE giggled and, unable to resist, flicked the safety cone off of WALL-E's eyes. Able to see again (and his eyes hurting from the sudden burst of light as they were freed from the Orange tyranny), he realized his mission was a success! He was taller than EVE! The probe, however, merely giggled again, motioning for WALL-E to let his treads down. Once he had (giving his neck the bend it had been so desperate for), she rested her head upon his and gave him a little spark of a kiss, letting him know height was no issue between them.

WALL-E was quite happy to know that; he had been terrified of holding that pose forever!


	12. As Time Passes

The first thing AUTO noticed when his systems re-activated was the discrepancy in time. According to his systems, the last date of activation was the year 2812. According to his internal clock, however, the year was 2875. He had been off-line for 53 years. It was an unusual fact to process, but as his memories of what had led to de-activation returned, it made sense. It did not become less worrisome, however.

"Hello there, AUTO. Hope you're feeling well."

The wheel turned his glowing red eye to the source of that weary old voice and found himself confronted with three unwelcome guests: the WALL-E who had disrupted his ship, the EVE probe who had betrayed her directive, and...wait. The third figure, AUTO did not immediately recognize. He was thinner now, his body was covered in wrinkles and liver-spots. Yet the uniform still fit.

"Captain."

"Heh heh..." the old man laughed with a cough, "yup. It's me."

The wheel spun himself around, hopping to topple the frail old man and his friends and prevent them...but wait. If 53 years had passed, it only made sense that he had ALREADY succeeded in returning the Axiom to Earth. Stopping his movement, AUTO's fear was confirmed when the ship did not respond to his command. "Explain." he said simply.

"We're home, AUTO," the Captain wheezed, "we have been for a long time now."

"Then why have I been re-activated?"

"Because..." the old man started, then paused to change his track; he knew this would take a bit of explaining. "It took us a while to get back on our feet, but we're doing pretty well for ourselves. In the last couple of years, we've even begun seeing people learn enough about robots to do some programming work."

"This does not answer my question."

"Hold on, hold on, I'm getting there. Anyway, even after 50 years, none of the other ships from the BnL fleet had returned to Earth. We realized they must have been...delayed...by their auto-pilots like we had been. So I assembled a group to try and program a way for us to de-activate Override Directive A-113."

Though he was still not yet satisfied his question had been answered, the mention of A-113 kept AUTO from speaking up again. Somehow, where once those numbers had made sense, they seemed...empty. This did not sit well with the auto-pilot. The Captain continued, "A few weeks back, the group made a breakthrough. We needed to be sure it worked first, so..."

"You tested it on me."

To his surprise, the Captain shook his head. "No, AUTO. We used the transmission from Mr. Forthright on another robot, and tested the code on THAT robot. It worked."

"Then why have I been re-activated?"

"Because..." he said, and this time did not stop himself from answering, "from the second I became Captain, you were right there by my side helping me. No matter what mistakes you made, I can't forget that. So I wanted to give you the chance to be part of this new family. I felt I owed you that much."

The old man coughed violently at the end of his sentence, leaning on a quite-willing EVE for support. It felt so strange to AUTO to see the Captain so frail. It was just as it had been with the other Captains, of course, but AUTO had never witnessed their deterioration reach this level; it had always happened out of his sight, with a new fresh Captain taking their place. What the Captain had said...it too contributed to AUTO's unease. It was trite human sentiment that had no baring on him...but again, A-113 was not there to remind him of that anymore. "So..." the Captain said weakly, "what do you say, AUTO? I'm sure we could find a place for you..."

Without fully knowing why, the wheel spun itself ever so slightly, a little tic of nervousness he was not at all used to. "I will...consider it." he answered before retracting himself into his nest in the roof.

"Take...take your time." the Captain called after him.

Watching from above, AUTO did not answer as WALL-E and EVE guided the thin old man who had once been the Captain out of the room. He should have just said no. What place could there be for an auto-pilot in the world outside this ship? Yet...for the first time, that world did not seem as scary as it had for 700 years.

The wheel's eye remained open.


	13. Lost

What is a robot without directive?

The conventional wisdom would say "lost". Directive, after all, is everything to a robot.

Yet VN-GO did not feel lost at all. In fact, for the first time, he felt...found. No longer did his colors need to be restricted by lines or boxes. Now they could be EVERYWHERE. He could share them with EVERYONE.

AUTO did not approve, particuarly when the would-be painter wound up drawing a splotchety line of yellows, greens, and reds that wound all the way from the Lito Deck to the Bridge.

So VN-GO found himself locked up, his work forced to fit the Directive. Only then, when his directive was slapped onto him in the form of electromagnetic changes, did he truly feel lost.

Soon, however, he would be found again, this time by a little cube with a song...


	14. Despite It All

There were many things about WALL-E EVE loved, but many of those same things confused her. Perhaps the most important thing about WALL-E that left EVE confused was that he had fallen in love with her at all. Despite it all, he had fallen in love with her.

The first time they met, she put an Ion Cannon to his face.

Whenever he had tried to show her affection before, she would callously ignore him.

Worst of all, because of her directive, he had almost died.

How could he love her after all that, EVE wondered. What had she done that was worthy of such undying affection? For a time, she simply let the question fester, content in knowing that no matter why HE loved HER, SHE loved HIM with every bit of data she had. Eventually, however, she simply needed an answer.

So one morning, when the little cube rolled back into their home from his sunrise re-charge, she lifted her hand to his and intertwined their fingers in that wonderful way, that mysterious and magical connection that they both held as sacred. Eyes doubtful and uncertain, she looked up to him and asked simply, "Why?"

WALL-E tilted his head as if the question was no question at all. He then lifted his free hand up and pointed it at her. "Ev-ah." he answered softly.

EVE looked down at their hands, then back up into WALL-E's warm eyes. She understood. "WALL-E." she whispered, tightening their fingers together that much more.

How that little cube could hold so much wisdom in such a simple form confused EVE. She loved him for that too, though.


	15. Spark

For seven hundred years, WALL-E had yearned for something he could give no name to. It was the feeling he had every time those fingers intertwined on the TV screen...a sense of belonging. Connection. He had not known what it was called, but he did now. Held in EVE's arms, head pressed against her body, he did now.

Intimacy.

EVE never felt uncomfortable aboard the Axiom, but she always felt trapped. Whenever she was on Earth, she would search for signs of plant life as was her directive, but she was looking for something else too. She had not known what it was, exactly, but she did now. Holding WALL-E in her arms, feeling his body against hers, she did now.

Understanding.

Spinning, floating, feeling, each paid heed only to the other. The Axiom, the vastness of space, even the fearful implications of GO-4's behavior in the Pod Bay...all of it paled in comparison to the meaning of what they had found in that moment. Looking down at WALL-E, seeing just how comfortable he clearly was in her arms, EVE surprised herself by leaning down. Her head touched his, and then...

Spark.

For a split second, light arched between them, connecting them. For the blink of an eye, they were one. EVE did not even know what it was, exactly. WALL-E did not either. Neither one, however, let it bother them. They did not need to know what it was to know what it felt like. What it represented. Intimacy. Understanding. Connection.

Love.


	16. Photosynthesis

Photosynthesis.

That was the word Shelby Forthright used when talking about the conditions required to affirm life on Earth was again sustainable. Yet EVE's scanning capabilities had been designed to probe far deeper than merely whether or not the plant was successfully converting nutrients from sunlight. The soil, the plant's skin, every last inch of its genetic makeup was taken in to the Probe's database when she had scanned it.

So when EVE had asked WALL-E to show her where he'd first found the Plant after their return to Earth, she was puzzled when he brought her to a hollowed-out old refridgerator. The door had been cut open by WALL-E, meaning the plant inside had been unable to receive sunlight prior to that point. And yet, the small green survivor huddled deep in that boot was as well-fed as any of its kind could hope to be.

EVE found it curious, but warmly familiar. Against all logic, this plant had lived. Against all logic, she'd learned love.

The universe, it seemed, was full of small miracles.


	17. Descendant

He straightened his red necktie ever so slightly...applied one last layer of gel to his hair to make sure it looked perfectly slick...rolled his shoulders to smooth out the stress. Yes indeed, he was ready for showtime.

It wouldn't be easy, of course, but it was time someone took action. After all, the Axiom needed to be sent back to Space, where it belonged. More importantly, it needed to get there quickly, before other ships got it in their heads that returning to Earth was a good idea! He practiced that winning smile that had passed down from generation to generation, from Great Grandpa to Grandpa to Dad and now to him.

"Computer, activate communications network. Link me to the Axiom." he requested, making sure to test the peppiness of his tone.

"Activating Communications Network. Linking to Axiom Communications Network." the computer replied obediently.

One last adjustment of the tie, a little spray for the throat...aaaand...

"Um...hello? This is, uh, Captain MacCrea of the Axiom speaking." a slightly confused voice called out as the Holoprojector opened up, revealing the voice to belong to a...rather pudgy man in a Captain's suit. "Who...um...who are YOU?"

"Name's Forthright." he replied gleefully. "Milton Forthright, and I was hoping to talk to you about the Axiom, Captain..."


	18. Moved By You

When they had first met, he had been a dirty, rusty little cube and she had been as pristine as a pearl.

Time passed. Days, then months, then years, then decades, then centuries. He continued to rust and age, losing the last flecks of his yellow paint completely until his body was a brownish-gray from head to tread. If one were to look close enough, they could even see beneath his metal plates. She began to gray as well, the shimmering sheen that had once marked her as something new and exotic dulling into nonexistence. The pure white that formed her body gradually darkened into a bland silver, the electric seams that composed her magnetic structure all the more evident for its absence.

As it did with all things, time destroyed their beauty.

Yet they never truly noticed. They never stopped watching the Sunset together. They never stopped holding hands. They never stopped sharing that magical spark which felt as wondrous and magical now as it had when first they had experienced it. They stayed with each other, always. The world changed around them, aging and dying and being reborn a hundred times over, and still they stayed.

As it did with all things, time ended for them both.

Yet what they shared...what they felt...never ended at all.


	19. Flying Dreams

There was music.

The first thing WALL-E noticed was that there was music. It was faint, all but indistinguishable from static, but it was there without a doubt.

Everything else was blurry. Darkness and swirls of color, but none of it made sense. It felt like walking through an ocean of molasses, sticky and rough, sweet and alluring. Part of it was dragging him, trying to hold on to him.

It didn't make sense to WALL-E, but it never felt like something to question...only something to be lost in. Lost...lost...lost.

There was still music, though.

It was beginning to feel clearer. Humming...someone was humming. Yes. A tune he knew he recognized, even though it was still hard to make out. The molasses continued to pull at him, asking him to stay forever, but that song...WALL-E knew he had to find it.

A sudden shock of warmth ran through him then. The dark seemed repelled by it. It felt...good. Comforting. Loving. And suddenly WALL-E felt himself moving through the molasses, making sense of the swirls, going somewhere he didn't know where but knew he needed to be.

It all gave way to her. Holding his hand. Looking at him with eyes full of worry and something deeper. He knew her...he knew this world. This song. "Ev-ah...?" he whispered, and knew he'd found his way home.

X X X

_Ever strong  
Our future song,  
To sing it must be free._

Ev'ry part  
Is from the heart,  
And love is still the key.  
-**Flying Dreams**, Paul Williams


	20. Caution

It was hard to imagine that, only hours ago, she was so mad at him she was ready to blast him off into space.

Now, however, frail and struggling for life in her arms...WALL-E's future meant more to EVE than anything else.

She saw the Steward-Bot nearby, bullying a poor little VN-GO into submission. The gun in her arm came out instantly. It was time to send a message.

She flew right up to the Steward. She placed the barrel directly at its face, waiting to hear that little click.

Click.

She then coralled the Steward into its own cage, taking VN-GO with her and flying off toward her destination. A small part of her smiled as she heard her message coming from the voice of the Axiom's Computer: "Caution: Rogue Robots. Caution: Rogue Robots. Caution..."

She'd been labeled Rogue once already, of course. In that same far-off time when she had felt anger at WALL-E, she had accidentally made herself look like quite the menace to the Steward taking her picture for all the Axiom to see and fear.

There was no accident this time.

She wanted them to know this time. ALL of them. The people willing to sit back and let their lives be run into the ground until they had lost all meaning...the robots so restricted by their Directives that they could treat their own as discards and garbage to be tossed aside...but most of all, she wanted HIM to know...she wanted AUTO to know exactly what she was going to do to him.

He had hurt WALL-E...WALL-E, who had stayed by her side as she slept...who showed her treasures and trinkets she'd never dreamed of before...who had opened up a flame inside of her that held the secrets of life itself within its glow. AUTO had hurt him. And as her picture flashed out onto the many decks of the Axiom, eyes slanted with rage and a gun pointed straight at every eye that looked its way, she wanted him to know. She wanted him to hear her message loud and clear:

**You hurt the one I love, and now...I'm coming for you.**


	21. More Than A Moment

Five years.

Five years ago on this very day, their love had made a miracle and brought the wandering people of Earth home at long last.

In all that time, they had not faltered. There had been stumbles, of course. Fights, arguments, differences. All were faced and resolved, however, no matter what shape or size they came in.

And then, one day, it happened.

They did not expect it to happen. No one did. No one could have, because by all rights, it shouldn't have. It had never happened before. Nothing like it had EVER happened before.

Their heads had pressed together. THAT had happened before, many times. That warm, loving arc of electricity flowed between them. That had happened before too. But as that light...that warmth...continued to pass between them...as he felt her power flow inside of him and she his, something...sparked. They both saw it. A vision...an image...

They showed it to the Captain through the Memory Module. He showed it to the Scientists. And the best they could come up with was an answer that didn't make a whole lot of sense, but was ultimately the only conclusion they could reach: it was a design, a blueprint of sorts created by an exchange of data between the two robots.

The pair did not know quite what to feel about that. This was something they had created, together...something that could be brought out into the world, something that they would have to care for. Were they ready for that? Did they want that?

He thought about it as he wheeled around the city, taking trash and crushing it into cubes for ease of recycling. She thought about it as she patrolled the borders, keeping an eye out for signs of danger. They both thought about it as they performed their daily duties. For days and nights, they thought and thought and thought, and all their thoughts kept coming back to that image.

It was so small...so frail. An egg-like oval, nestled between two treadwheels...on either side, fin-like arms that could move along thin paths that looped through the sides...and binocular eyes with shimmering LED pupils. That was the part they thought about most...looking into those eyes. What would they see inside of them? Would they see anything?

Finally, one night, when they were readying themselves for sleep, she took his hand in hers and held it tight. She placed her head upon his once again, and gave a soft crackle to let him know: she was ready. She wanted this...to see their creation become real. And knowing that, he was ready too.

The design was printed from the module, and the scientists set about working it into a functional blueprint. It took time. Months. All the while, the pair waited anxiously. And then, at last...she entered into their lives. Wheeling Excavations Nano-Droid. WEN-D. They held her in their arms, and showed her their home, and looked into her eyes and saw something wonderful. Curiosity, confusion...love. They knew then what was needed of them...because now they knew for sure what it was they had created.

WALL-E and EVE had a child.


End file.
